


Put Your Fripper in Me!

by ranianke



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Crack, Frip, Fripping, I’m so sorry, Lots of fripping, M/M, Masochists Only, Only crack here, PWP, Parody, Satire, The Author Regrets Everything, background anidala, polyamory?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25058533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranianke/pseuds/ranianke
Summary: ——an earnest attempt to write the worst Obikin smut in existence.——“Anakin smirked, lounging back against the wall and spreading his leather-clad legs in an obvious display of arrogance, cockiness, and his semi-turgid cock. “Oh yeah Master? And what do you think that I do with the Senator exactly?”Obi-Wan fumed and his face was red. Anakin smirked more widely, and harder. He liked to tease Padme like this too, as the brunette Nubian woman called out his name each night as she writhed on silky imported nerf-hair sheets.”I know—I know enough! I know that you—“ Obi-Wan looked furtively through the Temple hallways, “—that youfripher.” He looked appalled that the word had somehow left his mouth of its own accord, like a zarra bird flying out of a electro-cage after the power cell died.”
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66





	Put Your Fripper in Me!

**Author's Note:**

> My deepest apologies to George Lucas.
> 
> This began as a humble exploration of what awful Lucasism would have been canonically used to replace the word “dick”, and ended...in the horror you find before you.  
> Come scream at me on [Tumblr](https://spookyseahorse.tumblr.com).

“Anakin, I won’t take it anymore.”

Anakin coyly looked at the small angry Stewjoni man who appeared extra angry today. The ginger man was so short, it made Anakin want to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder like a caveperson from the moons of Iego.

“What won’t you take, Master?” Anakin leered cockily.

Obi-Wan stamped his foot. “I won’t allow you to continue seeing the Senator like this. I know where you go at night, and it has to stop!”

Anakin smirked, lounging back against the wall and spreading his leather-clad legs in an obvious display of arrogance, cockiness, and his semi-turgid cock. “Oh yeah Master? And what do you think that I do with the Senator exactly?” 

Obi-Wan fumed and his face was red. Anakin smirked more widely, and harder. He liked to tease Padme like this too, as the brunette Nubian woman called out his name each night as she writhed on silky imported nerf-hair sheets.

”I know—I know enough! I know that you—“ Obi-Wan looked furtively through the Temple hallways, “—that you _frip_ her.” He looked appalled that the word had somehow left his mouth of its own accord, like a zarra bird flying out of a electro-cage after the power cell died. 

Well, well. Maybe Obi-Wan was more… _emotionally_ invested in this than he’d thought. _Well_ , thought Anakin, _I suppose there’s time for playing more than one game of Sabacc at the same time._ Padme had told him he could frip Obi-Wan whenever he wanted. She thought the attractive Stewjoni man was very alluring; all he would have to do was tell her later all about how his former Master looked in the midst of a good fripping.

“Well….. _Master_. What are you going to do about it? Are you gonna run tell the Council on me?”

Anakin leered down at the very small man, admiring openly the way his tunics spilled open at the color and the blush ran down his cheeks. Anakin wondered it would spread all the way to his _other_ cheeks too.

Obi-Wan looked started as he caught the idea in Anakin’s head through the remnants of their training bond. Anakin had often sent quite naughty thoughts along it as a horny teenager lusting after his Master, and Obi-Wan had seemed quite relieved when it had been severed. Anakin, on the other hand, quite missed thinking about pumping Obi-Wan’s fat, hard nerf-sausage in his hand as he projected his thirst directly over their bond. 

“Well Master?” Anakin stepped closer into the smaller man’s space. Obi-Wan’s back was now against a door that Anakin opened with a prodigious display of the Force. Fortunately the room beyond was empty. Anakin stepped forward again, crowding Obi-Wan out of the hallway with his preposterously muscular torso.

“I don’t — think that will be necessary if you stop this … _dalliance_ at once.” Obi-Wan frowned up at him.

“Okay, Master.”

“In fact, I—what?”

“Okay Master. As long as you promise to take care of my…needs that the Senator helps me with.”

“—!” Obi-Wan couldn’t form a coherent reply. “Anakin, I couldn’t!”

“Of course you can Master. At least I assume you can,” he said, leering down at the other man’s tunics. “You’ve got a fripper in there that works, I presume.”

“Of course—Anakin that is not appropriate!” sputtered Obi-Wan speechlessly. The other man seemed flustered and aroused in equal parts.

Anakin kissed Obi-Wan’s mouth with both of his lips, smacking them together, plundering the hole in his Master’s face with his tongue. Obi-Wan sighed in ecstasy and went limp. 

“Oh Anakin. I’ve waited so long for this,” Obi-Wan sighed. Anakin knew it. He had felt the way his Master couldn’t look at him when he stripped off his tunics after a sparring session and flexed his pectorals sinuously.

Anakin happily pulled a bottle of lube out of his pocket. He had been hoping for something like this today, although not necessarily with his delectable former master. Anakin liked to exercise his pendulous manhood regularly with Padme or whomever she allowed him to frip that week.

“Oh Master let me frip you so hard.”

“Ah yes yes Anakin—!” Obi-Wan said speechlessly.

Anakin swiftly helped his former master discard his trousers and sat his pert, rounded Stewjoni asscheeks on a conveniently-located desk. He ran his solid, mechanical digits over the rotund backside with the precision and grace with which a plautonium-winning blitzball champion brushes the synth-grass in their final pass before a score. Anakin could have been a blitzball champion, Padme always told him as she stroked his hair at night.

Anakin lubed up his fingers and delved them across and into Obi-Wan’s _other_ hole between his _other_ cheeks. Obi-Wan shuddered again in ecstasy, like a speeder’s last throes of energy before running out of juice in the middle of the Dune Sea.

After a shocking short amount of time Obi-Wan’s puckered pucker was sopping wet and open around Anakin’s fingers. 

“Anakin….put it in me,” Obi-Wan whined. 

“Put what in you, Master?” Anakin teased, wiggling his fingers. “I’m already in you.”

“No, Anakin. Put—“ Obi-Wan was bashful.

“Put….?”

“Put your fripper in me!” Obi-Wan screamed in frustration. 

“Oh? This fripper?” Anakin palmed his fully turgid cock through his trousers, slowly unzipping them in a pantomime of a Frippendale’s strip tease that Padme had taken him to see once.

The red-hot throbbing piece of durasteel wrapped in soft, silky flesh was unleashed from his pants, and Obi-Wan gaped in speechless wonder. 

“You never knew how big I was, did you?” Anakin teased, as he teased Obi-Wan’s puckered entrance with his pulsing member. Obi-Wan was again speechless as Anakin slid home. Anakin gasped in ecstasy as his low-hanging fruit slapped up against those perfectly globular ass cheeks. Obi-Wan’s mouth made a perfect ‘O’ as he felt the hot durasteel start to pump inside of him like a piston inside of a hot, fleshy engine.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh Anakin!” Obi-Wan moaned speechlessly. With a shout, Obi-Wan’s cum exploded from his fripper, arcing in a delicious fountain that Anakin caught on his tongue with pleasure. The salty taste filled his senses with a need to consume even more, faster. His hips pistoned harder, ass cheeks jiggled, and Obi-Wan continued to moan without words.

Finally, Anakin’s pillar erupted into flame and spurted hot and fast into the dark wet cavern of Obi-Wan’s sopping wet Stewjoni orifice. It came out of him in ropes, spurts, coating Obi-Wan’s tender membranes and making his former Master weep in ecstasy. The midichlorians surged through Obi-Wan’s system, making him vibrate with a feeling of utter completeness in the Force and the Stewjoni redhead could feel the stars in the galaxy around him like pinpricks in the distance as the younger man spurted endlessly in his moist hole. He could feel the power of this man inside him, slathering him in potent midichlorian seed that would seep out of him onto this desk between his pert globes, and he shuddered again in ecstasy.

They stayed entwined for long minutes as they both breathed together and their perfect foreheads touched, smooth skin to smooth skin. 

“Well Master, you were right.”

“Yes Anakin, I often am. About what, exactly?”

“The Council certainly doesn’t need to know about this,” he leered, with a wink.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] Put Your Fripper in Me!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25663228) by [coldishcase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldishcase/pseuds/coldishcase)




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